Hideous Dream
by Melannen Halfelven
Summary: SLASH. LegolasOC. Legolas has given his heart to a simple palace guard, what will happen between them when he is forced into a political marriage to Arwen? R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**Hideous Dream**

This is my first LoTR slash fic, so hope you like it. Reviews are very much appreciated. :) Calhuan translates to "hound of light". Read and Review!

Legolas listened to his father in disbelief. He had not meant to anger Thranduil, but he could not continue as he had for the past three years. The protection of secrecy only extended so far, and he wanted more than that. He would not allow society to keep him bound in heavy chains, no longer. He had not chosen the path on which his feet led him. He heart had chosen for him.

"My son," the king continued, although Legolas had not been listening, "There are some things that are expected of you. As the crown prince of Mirkwood you cannot abandon all of those expectations that the people hold for you."

"That you hold for me." Legolas' voice was sharp, but not wholly unkind.

"As the prince, you have duties to your people and to your realm. You shall find another, I know you shall."

"You would know well, would you not, father?"

"I loved your mother."

"There is no need for you to lie to me. I am no longer a child." Legolas pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning against and paced round Thranduil's chamber.

The king sighed. "Legolas there will be another. Do not bind yourself to something that is . . . . temporary."

"I will never love another."

"Love? That is a strong word, _ion nin._" (My son)

"As are my feelings."

"Legolas . . . ." Thranduil knew he would regret his words, but could find nothing else to say. "Take him as your lover, if you must. At least that way, you can live as you should."

"Lover? You would have me shut him in the dark, only because you are ashamed of him?" Legolas yelled. "No! I would never dishonor him like that! You take a lover! That way you may get that heir you want so badly! For I will not be him!"

"Legolas --"

"Take your damned crown!" Legolas snatched the circlet form his brow and flung it at his father's feet. The metal clanged against the stone. He turned sharply and strode from the room.

He ignored the startled looks he received from the few servants that had crowded around the door. He clenched his hands into fists. How dare his father suggest such a contemptible thing! He jumped in surprise when a hand grabbed his wrist, thinking it was his father. Legolas was shocked to find himself staring into two deep sapphire eyes. They pierced his soul. Legolas shook his head slowly and, reaching up, took a long wisp of the ebony hair between his fingers. The other elf entwined his fingers with Legolas' own, and then touched the hand to his lips.

His voice was but a whisper when he said, "Farewell, my lord." He then bowed, and walked away. The cool indifference cut Legolas as any dagger would. It made no difference to him that this knife was an unseen one. He felt that slash across his heart would never heal. Indeed, it never would.

Legolas found his way to his bedchamber, but it seemed dreary to him. He stumbled out of his tunic and collapsed onto his bed with a broken sigh. The soft voice echoed in his mind. It came to him without his calling it. Oh, if only the one who spoke those words would come to him!

"Alas," he thought to himself, "It is not so." He was unable to sleep. What rest there might have been for him was gone, vanished into the night. The elf pulled a cloak over his shoulders, for it was bitter cold, and went out from the palace. The guards at the entrance heeded him little, thinking him some servant on a night errand for his master. They were partially correct, for his heart was indeed a cruel master.

He wandered down to the river, and, kneeling beside it, looked at his reflection. It seemed distorted and distant, twisted even. He felt that way. As an old rag rung out too many times. Once more, and Legolas felt he would break. Even as he stood, the soft crack of a twig betrayed a presence behind him. with his mangled senses, Legolas had not heard them approach. He turned, and found himself looking into a familiar face. The stars were mirrored in those mournful sapphire eyes.

"Calhuan, what are you doing here?" Legolas asked in surprise.

"I could ask you the same thing, but I will not waste my breath." He had a startlingly deep voice. "My lord."

"_Mana, melmenya? Mana?" _(Why, love? Why?)

"I cannot go against my king." said Calhuan. He avoided looking Legolas in the eye.

Legolas took a step toward him, and Calhuan stepped back. "Would you go against your prince?"

"You are the prince no longer, or did you so quickly forget, my lord?"

"Do not call me that." Legolas stepped toward him once again, and the dark haired elf did not retreat, but only averted his eyes. Legolas took his chin between his thumb and forefinger, and forced Calhuan to look him in the eyes. "Am I not the same once who you once professed to love?"

"Things have changed."

"What things?"

"Legolas . . . . you cannot make me go against my king." Calhuan tried to push Legolas away, but the elder of the two held firm.

At any other time the sound of Calhuan saying his name, like the whisper of a hand upon flesh that is separated by only a thin film of silk, would have made him shiver as the words flowed over him. Yet now was different. Calhuan's voice was tinted with temper, like a sword dipped in poison.

The sound of hooves broke the silence that had enveloped them. Legolas' hand dropped to his side and he stepped away. A guard from the palace emerged from the line of trees beside the river; his horse was sweating profusely.

"My lord." He addressed Legolas. "The king desires a word with you, immediately. He says it is of great import."

Legolas nodded and allowed the guard to disappear again into the wood before turning once more to Calhuan. "Are you certain?" He nearly choked on the words and his eyes were pricked with tears that he refused to let fall. The dark haired elf did not speak, but nodded. Legolas leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Farewell, Cal." Legolas was unsure why he used the pet name which he had given Calhuan when they were only children. Perhaps it was to hear himself say it, one last time.

Legolas walked away. His heart was torn.

When Legolas found his father, Thranduil was sitting on his oaken throne; a curled piece of parchment was on his knees. Legolas approached, and bowed low, as would be expected from one who is no longer the prince. The king stood, and took Legolas' arm, guiding him to sit on the dais by his feet.

"Sit, my son," he said softly, "I wish I did not have to tell you this, especially not now." He brushed a hand affectionately over his son's golden hair. "A courier from Imladris just arrived, to give me this." He waved the note. "Lord Elrond wants for you to marry Arwen."

Legolas' mind reeling, and the ground beneath him seemed to drop out from under him. How could he possibly accept when his heart was Calhuan's? Political marriages between realms were highly uncommon, but not unheard of. Thranduil's own marriage had been arranged. It was a vital tie between Lorien and Mirkwood during the Last Alliance, but it had torn both of them away from someone they loved. Little love had there been between them at first, but Thranduil and Ivren had learned to love each other, over time. The king had been devastated when his wife was killed in an orc raid. Legolas had only been a small child.

"Father . . . . you know I cannot accept . . . ."

"Legolas," Thranduil's voice was firm. "I am sorry, and I may one day ask for your forgiveness, for I have already sent my reply. I told him you would accept it with gratitude."

"No, no . . . . father . . . . I beg you . . . . you can stop the messenger . . . . there is time yet to catch him . . . . no . . . ."

"Legolas, it is final." He kissed his son lightly on the brow before standing and striding out of the chamber.

A breath shuddered from Legolas' body. It was surreal to him. Dawn would soon be there, and perhaps he would awaken from this hideous dream. Legolas folded his arms on the throne and buried his face betwen them while he wept.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for all the lovely reviews!

Legolas was awoken early that day by two of his father's menservants. he found that, on the day that he needed it most, he could find no time to himself. They even watched over him as he washed. A year had passed since that day, that awful day. He had not sought out Calhuan to speak with him, although he greatly desired to do so. He respected his wishes, and did not interfere.

He was dressed in his finest robes and his long hair was brushed out. He glanced at the thin silver ring upon his index finger. It was a cursed thing. For a year it had burdened him and torn at him. And today, it would be replaced by a thin gold band.

He dreaded the moment when he would have to face her. It was rumored, among the servants that he overheard, that she was as unwilling as he. He highly doubted it. The ebony haired princess would do anything if it meant praise from her father, or so he had heard. They had only met once, long ago. He had been hunting with her brothers and met her, quite by chance, when they returned. Many long years had passed since then.

A sharp rap on the door brought him out of his dark reverie. Two cloaked figures entered and the valets nearly fled at their sharp command.

"Leave us."

Legolas smiled in relief. At last, someone he could speak to openly. They threw back their hoods and two identical pairs of silvery eyes raked over his body. "Elladan! Elrohir!" He embraced them both and ignored their jibes over his extravagant robes.

"Alas, mellon nin," said Elrohir, "It has been too long." He paused. "It was quite a surprise to learn that you are to be married to our sister."

"And not one of us." Elladan mumbled. He was ignored by Legolas, but his twin snickered.

"Is that envy I hear?" said his twin mischievously.

Elladan snorted. "Nay, perhaps a little dissapointment. Yet it appears our friend is looking forward to the occasion. Aren't you?"

Legolas shook his head. "Far from it." His voice was heavy with sorrow.

Elladan and Elrohir guided him to sit on the bed, and then sat beside him. "Tell us everything." Legolas did as they asked. when he was finished the three shared a rare moment of silence. "All the better then, Thranduilion." the elder of the two spoke. "For Arwen has been dreading it as well, for she too is promised."

Legolas cocked his head. "To whom?"

Elladan coughed and deepened his voice, "A fair lord of men."

"Ai! No wonder your father was so succinct in his offer!" His voice as lightened. "But yet, what can we do?"

"Nothing." Elrohir said softly, placing his hand on his friend's shoulder. "We shall help you as much as we can, but I fear it is too little, too late."

"The Valar are cruel!" Legolas moaned.

"Perhaps they just have a sense of humor." Elladan offered. His brother gave him a searing look. "I was only ---"

Elrohir interrupted. "Take care, Legolas Thranduilion. All will resolve itself with time." He kissed Legolas lightly on the lips, lingering for a moment. "Fare thee well, and good luck."

"We shall see you in a few hours?" Elladan inquired.

Legolas sighed. "Aye." He watched them leave with sadness. It seemed so long since they had been carefree and young together. Legolas touched his lips. "So long ago." He whispered to himself.

Legolas could feel his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes roved over the crowd of elves, but he could not find anyone who he felt comfortable with. Many walked by and congratulated him, and he responded with a weak nod. The ceremony would begin soon.

"Legolas!" The voice startled him enough that he jumped slightly. Elrohir put an arm around his shoulder. "Come! Elladan has found an empty place, and more than his share of wine!"

The golden haired elf followed his friend to a hollowed niche not far from the main hall. Elladan was already there, sipping occasionally from a silver goblet. He handed it to Legolas, who took a long draught.

"Ai! Oi!" He tried to snatch the cup away. "Leave some for the rest of us!" Legolas grudgingly returned the cup.

"How do you feel?" Asked Elrohir.

"I wish I was less sober." They laughed.

"I am sorry, Legolas."

The fair haired elf shook his head. "There is nothing you could have done, Elrohir."

"Nonetheless, I am so sorry it had to be this way for you."

They embraced. "Thank you." Legolas whispered gruffly.

Elladan nudged them. "The king is upon the dais, I believe the ceremony is soon to begin."

"Damn it all."

Elladan gave Legolas a sideways glance and passed him the wine. "You had better go up there."

Legolas downed the remaining wine. "Aye." He clapped his friends on the shoulder. "I shall see you after the ceremony?"

"I suppose, for I doubt we shall be bedding all the beautiful maidens tonight."

"You are so vulgar."

"We know."

"Farewell." Legolas passed through the throng and made his way to the dais.

Elrohir sighed and leaned against the stone wall. "Ai, I miss him."

His brother turned. "There was nothing you could have done to save them."

"I know."

Legolas approached his father, who greeted him stoically. The wounds between them were not yet fully healed. Legolas could barely breathe as Thranduil addressed all of the elves in the hall. He spoke to them of the joining of his son, Legolas, and Arwen of Rivendell. Legolas felt nauseous. To the eldar marriage was the most sacred of unions, and he was to be bound to one his did not love, and who did not love him. It was all a lie. It was a lie to himself. It was a lie to his people. How could Iluvatar ever forgive him?

It was then that he saw her, being led by Galadriel to the dais. She was pale and her eyes were wide with terror. "Poor girl," thought Legolas, "She is not even the heir to a throne and is being thrust into this."

He barely felt his father take his hands and place them with hers. He was deaf to the voice of Galadriel as she named Varda witness to the event, and he could not hear his father call upon Manwe. It was only when the sacred name of Eru was brought down upon them by both that he heard them. That name was seldom spoken, yet was heard now. He shakily handed Arwen his silver ring and received the one that she had worn. The name of Eru was spoken once more before he slipped a golden band upon her index finger, and she did the same to him.

Thranduil and Galadriel stepped away. He felt bare and vulnerable without them there to block him from the eyes of the crowd. He leaned down and kissed Arwen on the cheek. Somehow, she seemed relieved. A sudden rustle of cloth from below stirred him from his trance. Two guards were moving toward them, through a gap that had formed between the groups of elves.

One of the guards he did not recognize, but he knew the other. Calhuan's eyes were as black as night, but colder and far more fathomless. Legolas' stomach churned. How could he have forgotten? Two guards were chosen to escort the newly weds to their marriage bed, and stay outside the door all night long.


	3. Chapter 3

_Elrohir grabbed Legolas' hand and tugged him playfully into the trees. It was night, and the soldier's camp was silent. The few watchmen faded into and out of the trees like shadows. As soon as they were under the cover of the trees, Elrohir pulled Legolas close to him and kissed him. Long ago Legolas had decided that Elrohir liked flirting with danger more than anything else. He knew without a doubt that both Elrond and Thranduil would be furious if ever they learned of their sons' liaison. The Prince also knew that Elrohir was entranced by the idea if not downright aroused by it. Legolas ran his fingers through the chocolate wave of hair, cupping Elrohir's head to pull him closer. The half elf ran a hand down Legolas' chest to settle on his hip. He smelled like leather and sweat. He kissed Legolas' neck and then his ear before he returned to his mouth._

_Legolas moaned. "Elrohir," he batted the other away with his hand. "If we are seen . . . ."_

_Elrohir looked at him petulantly. "Who would care, melmenya? It is orcs they are looking for, not officers."_

_While there was a logic in his statement that Legolas could not ignore, he was not comfortable being so intimate with Elrohir so close to the patrols' camp. He supposed it was one of those thrills Elrohir was looking for. It did not matter that the others knew of their relationship, almost everyone did. He sighed gustily and said, "Then we shall go farther into the forest."_

_Elrohir leaned in and whispered against his lips something so sinful and sensuous Legolas momentarily forgot their proximity to the camp and let himself be consumed by his lover's fire. A few more minutes passed before Legolas regained enough sense to pull Elrohir deeper into the forest, where at least they might not be heard. The thick blanket of night had descended upon the woods. The air was thick. It seeped into their skin and made their bodies leaden. It was a wonderful feeling. As Legolas backed blindly into the forest, with Elrohir planting soft kisses all over his skin, he did not realize they had reached the river until his boot splashed when he stepped into it. The half elf gave him a calculating look before nonchalantly pushing Legolas backwards. He could not catch himself in time and landed with a loud splash. Elrohir took off his boots and joined him._

_Legolas loved Elrohir. Elrohir loved the idea of the whole scheme. Undoubtedly, there was some strong emotion that the halfelf felt for the prince, but he could never identify it, like seeing something through a fog. He would glimpse it for a brief second before it disappeared again. To Legolas something as simple as a kiss could be as powerful as a storm, and cause as much trouble. To Elrohir it was just that, a kiss. For some unknown reason that neither could describe, Elrohir's cynicism provided a balance for the prince's illusioned world. One was so naive, blind to the cruelty of the world, and the other had seen it all, but had escaped unscathed. Legolas, whose mother had died in a raid when he was but an infant, could not fully understand the grief that misted his lover's eyes when Celebrian was mentioned. At times, the prince feared what he saw beneath the carefree facade: unquenchable fury. He had seen Elrohir wield a blade against the orcs, and it nearly broke his illusion. How could laughing Elrohir be so cold and calculating? Yet, every time, the halfelf would smile, and the vision would disappear._

_Their kissing subsided after a time, and Legolas rested his head on his lover's chest. The cool water lapped at their legs. Legolas shivered slightly. "Cold?" Elrohir asked._

_"Not much."_

_"Perhaps we should return." The prince looked at the halfelf. There was worry in his eyes. Elrohir continued, seeing his confusion. "Something is amiss, I know not what. I feel it."_

_Legolas nodded and drug himself fully out of the water. He laced his boots and rung the water from his golden hair. Elrohir shook himself dry like a waterlogged dog. The halfelf took the prince's hand and led him back to the camp. When they were not quite in sight of the camp, Legolas stumbled backwards. His elven senses had picked up the scent just before his lover, who was soon back beside him. Elrohir's face was contorted in revulsion._

_"Blood." Legolas identified the tangy scent which was strongest to him. "So much blood."_

_Elrohir grabbed his arm. "Stay back. Let me go."_

_Legolas shook his head stubbornly. "I am going." Elrohir shook his head in disbelief before jogging into the clearing. Legolas followed. The second he saw the carnage, he fell to his knees and retched up all that he had eaten that day. Elrohir put a hand on his shoulder, but it was shrugged off._

_It was terrible. The ground was washed in blood. The tents had been trampled down. The elves that had been with them were slain. The leader had been decapitated, and his head was on a stake in the middle of the camp. His eyes were unseeing, yet boring into them with nothing short of contempt. _

_"What happened?" Legolas' voice was hoarse._

_"Orcs."_

_"What about the sentries?"_

_"They would have been slain first. Silently, before the camp could be warned." Elrohir's cold analysis shocked Legolas._

_"How can you be so indifferent?" he asked._

_Elrohir gazed down at him. "This is not the first."_

_Legolas stared at him, amazed by his cool behavior. "But we could have saved them!"_

_"No. We, too, would have died. I am expendable. You, my fine young prince, are not." His words sliced through Legolas and the sarcasm in his voice stunned him. He lashed out._

_"If you had not taken me into the forest, this would never have happened!"_

_"You are right. We would not be here now. We would be slain on the ground, our throats cut."_

_"How could you let this happen?"_

_"There was nothing we could have done, Legolas. Accept it."_

_The prince stood and stared his lover in the eyes. "You are wrong." Elrohir shook his head but did not speak. "We could have saved them, and you know it!" He was met with silence. "How could you?" Elrohir sighed and walked away. There was nothing he could do. Arguing with such ignorance would only hurt them both. "Do not walk away from me!" Legolas grabbed Elrohir's arm._

_Elrohir turned on him, and laughed. "I finally realized something." He scoffed. "You are only a spoilt brat who is angry because his illusions have finally been shattered!"_

_Legolas stopped in tracks, his mouth agape. "You are right, Elrohir." The prince spat. "My illusions have been shattered. I finally realize why my father would be against my relationship with a half-breed!"_

_Elrohir turned away so Legolas would not see the tears that pricked his eyes. He could take a lot from an upset Legolas, but not that. He was not at all ashamed of who, or what, he was, but to hear it used against him in such a vile way tore his soul. "Forgive me, my lord." He walked away._

Legolas awoke, his face wet with tears. From his place on the divan, he saw Arwen sleeping peacefully on the bed. She was a smart girl, and it had not taken them long to come to a suitable agreement. It had been a long time since he had last had that dream. It had taken many years to heal the rift that he had caused between himself and Elrohir. Yet, what was done, was done, and, as Elrohir was fond of saying, he had better accept it. Only Elladan knew the full truth behind what had happened. Others, of course, speculated. In a far place in his heart, he knew he still felt something for the halfelf, but that part of his life was long over. It was best if he move on, in what ever direction.


	4. Chapter 4

It did not take long for the rumors to spread. Elrohir heard whispers in the kitchen, in the gardens, and everywhere else that the servants visited. He chuckled to himself. He knew that the blood found in the Prince's bed was certainly not Arwen's. Legolas' perhaps, but not Arwen's. He had himself given her the small pouch of pig's blood, and the dagger. Which she had used, he had no idea. He caught a fleeing glance of Legolas, and he seemed intact, so it was probably the former. The prince had seen Arwen with a blade, so Elrohir doubted he was foolish enough to try anything, if he had even wanted to.

Arwen came down the stairs with a flourish. She grabbed his arm and whispered furiously, "You would think that my maids were hounds the way they follow me around." He smiled and nodded, trying to hide his grin when she spoke again, this time louder. "The Prince was an absolute gentleman. He was quite . . . . skilled with his duties." Elrohir snorted, he knew that was a lie. If anything, their first hour together had been spent threatening to cut each other's throats if one should touch the other. Yet, Arwen was like her father, a politician if nothing else. She would play to the crowd as long as she was inclined to.

A dark haired guard sauntered by, as if to catch what was said. Arwen saw this and wasted no time before she repeated her little speech about Legolas' "skills." Elrohir's amusement fled, however, when the guard stopped. His eyes burned with fury. Elrohir watched as his hands clenched and unclenched. Arwen was still bragging on Legolas, oblivious to the guard, who touched the hilt of his sword lightly before jerking his hand away, as if thinking better of running his sister through. Elrohir moved quickly. Calhuan had no chance of getting away. The tip of the halfelf's blade dug into the guard's neck.

"Let us take a walk." Elrohir shoved him forward and into an empty room. The door swung shut behind them, and everything was silenced. He faced the guard and was somewhat taken aback by the face that was glaring at him. Calhuan's hair was tousled from the halfelf's unfriendly grasp, his face was flushed, and he looked murderous. The thin trickled of blood that ran down his neck only added to his ferocity.

"What do you want?" Calhuan snarled.

"Why do hate my sister enough to even think of harming her?" Elrohir's voice was strained, but calm nonetheless.

Calhuan wiped the blood from his neck. "Take your Noldorin harlot back to where she came from."

"You did not answer me."

"The Prince deserves better."

Elrohir shrugged. "That sounds terribly familiar." He said vaguely. "Why should you care who the Prince beds?"

Calhuan did not rise to the bait. "He is not the Prince, or did he tell you? Thranduil keeps up the pretenses until he can either get a son of his own, which is unlikely, or wait for a grandchild, which is even more unlikely." He grinned. "I doubt he even likes the distaff gender, so your sister would be no real prize to him."

"What is your name, guard?"

"Calhuan. Are you going to report me?" He asked.

"No." Silver eyes bore into sapphire ones. "I do think, though, that I will visit our Prince." The horrified look on Calhuan's face told him all that he needed to know.

Legolas rung the last of the water from his hair after his bath. Arwen had fled at daybreak. He dropped his towel when the door was nearly knocked off of its hinges.

"What in the name of Manwe are you doing? You are a bloody mad bastard of a she-orc!" Elrohir yelled.

Legolas tried to hide his surprise, and wrapped the towel around his waist. "Good morning, Elrohir." Legolas yelped in pain when Elrohir grabbed his arm and threw him on the bed.

The halfelf was breathing heavily and his eyes were blazing. "What, exactly, happened between you and that guard, Calhuan?"

Legolas bit his lip. "I do not understand how that is relevant."

"Alright, then, Legolas, what is relevant is why you never told me you were no longer the heir to the throne of Mirkwood!"

The golden haired elf blushed and ducked his head. "That. I should have told you."

Elrohir growled, "Damned right you should have!"

"Forgive me."

"What happened?"

Legolas exhaled loudly. "I renounced my title in a second of blind stupidity."

Elrohir brushed the hair from his face. "Why?" His question was soft.

"My father refused to allow me to acknowledge Calhuan as my lover."

Elrohir whistled. "That sounds familiar."

"I was angry. . . . and I said quite a few . . . . regrettable things."

"Once more, familiar. Do you love him?"

"I -- I think so."

"You answer is pitiful. You were willing to renounce your crown for an 'I think so?'"

Legolas ran his tongue along his dry lips. "I love him."

Elrohir plopped backwards. "I am not the least bit convinced."

Legolas laid down beside him, studying the carved ceiling. "He refuses to speak with me and when he escorted Arwen and me last night was the first time I had seen him in months." He paused. "Elrohir, perhaps you could. . . . . talk to him for me."

"That is a very foolish idea." He recalled his earlier talk with Calhuan. He had no desire to repeat it. He was unsure if he could leash his temper a second time.

"I know that it is."

"You are willing to risk the consequences?"

"I am."

Elrohir would not admit to himself why he had to look away, but he knew it was because Legolas had never been so reckless with him. It was a painful realization that Legolas felt more for this guard than he had ever felt for Elrohir. Despite his own mind telling him it was the past, Elrohir could not help but feel stung. What had so brutally separated them so many years ago, Legolas was now walking into, but this time he knew what might happen. It was more than jealousy, it was a realization that perhaps he might still love that golden haired prince. Elrohir shook himself.

"Then I shall speak with him. I warn you - it may not go as well as you think."

Legolas nodded. "I knew that I could count on you, mellon nin."

"Aye," Elrohir swallowed. "Mellon."


	5. Chapter 5

Calhuan tensed when he felt a cool blade press against his throat. Deep in the catacombs beneath the palace, no one would hear him. Trying to evade Legolas had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now, as the blade sliced into his skin, it did not seem so wise. He could not see his assailant's face.

"You disgust me." The voice was deep and laced with malice and hatred. The blade dug in deeper. "You and your . . . . ilk should all be dead. You lure the Prince into sin." Calhuan could not see his attacker, but he knew that the elf had grimaced. "You are a disgrace to your king, your rank, even your race. You deserve death." Calhuan closed his eyes. There was nothing he could do. He waited for the dagger to slip into his flesh and cut off his life's blood, killing him. "But death," The assailant continued, "Would be too kind." Calhuan heard a mocking sigh. "Do you actually believe the Prince cares for you?" Calhuah swallowed. There was a cold laugh. "You are wrong, soldier, so very wrong. He was simply using your body because it amused him. He is incapable of love."

Through gritted teeth, Calhuan spoke. "He loves me."

"After his liaison with Elrond's son?" Calhuan jerked. He could not believe what he was hearing, and although he tried to block them out, the words were not that much of a surprise. "Yes, soldier, they spent many years together - but Elrohir ruined him. Legolas found himself uncapable of his old emotions. Did you wonder how the half-breed knew of you and the Prince?" He paused until Calhuan stiffened. "Ah, you remember now of what I speak. Elrohir still uses him, even now; the Prince is under his spell. He holds Legolas in his lies. Those of mixed blood cannot be trusted, you know that, soldier . . . especially not with something as special and fragile as love."

The assailant withdrew his knife, but before Calhuan could turn, he had been rendered unconscious by a heavy blow to the head.

Calhuan awoke in the light. "Mana . . . ." His voice was hoarse. His eyes burned from the light and his head still throbbed from the blow.

"What happened?" A voice from somewhere above him asked. Calhuan heard the scrape of boots against stone.

"I was attacked . . ." Calhuan tried to sit up, but his head swam.

"With a knife?"

"Aye."

"Damn." Calhuan's companion cursed. The young guard was suddenly hoisted to his feet by a strong pair of arms. "Fool, what were you doing wandering down here?" When he did not get a response, the stranger sighed. Calhuan had yet to see his face. There was the sound of tearing cloth. A dark haired elf stepped into Calhuan's vision and handed him a strip of cloth. It took the guard a moment to recognize him.  
"You!"

Elrohir snorted. "Aye. I'm surprised you recognized me." His voice held a slight hint of sarcasm. "You look like death -- bind your neck. Be careful, the wound is still fragile, and the last thing we need is you being weakened by blood loss . . . . or scaring the servants out of their wits." The halfelf chuckled and shoved the bandage at the guard. "Hurry." Calhuan carefully wrapped the cloth around his neck and tied it. "Come, we need to take you to the ki--"

Calhuan stopped him short by slamming his head against the stone wall. Elrohir's legs bucked and he sunk to the floor, nearly unconsciuos. Calhuan sighed, but he was suddenly knocked off of his feet. Elrohir was on top of him within seconds. "I have had enough of you, scatter-brained idiot." He grabbed Calhuan's collar and yanked him to his feet. The guard prepared himself to attack the halfelf, but was too slow. Elrohir gave him a sound slap across the face. Calhuan felt a blade poke his back.

"Move. I'm not in the mood to play games." The guard had no choice but to comply. He walked slowly in the direction that Elrohir led him.

"Why did you do it?"

Elrohir rolled his eyes. The insolent pup had better learn when to keep his mouth shut, or else he would be black and blue by the time they reached Thranduil. "What?"

"Why did you . . . . ruin Legolas?"

"I did not ruin him." Elrohir wondered how Calhuan knew of his relationship with Legolas. Had the Prince told him? Elrond's son doubted it. It made sense, though, that the guard's assailant had told him something of the sort. Eru knew they had enough enemies for something like that to happen. "He ruined himself." Elrohir paused, wondering how much he could safely tell this guard. "His illusions were broken and he blamed others in order to cope."

"Illusions?"

Elrohir laughed. "Aye. The Prince has many. Or he did at least when we . . . . forget it, soldier."

"But you are still together."

"No."

"But --"

Elrohir jabbed Calhuan's back with his sword. "You ask too many questions."

"I --"  
"Silence!" Elrohir's roar echoed through the tunnels. Calhuan did not speak until they reached the king, nearly half an hour later.

They entered the king's private chamber through a secret passage that Calhuan had not known existed. Thranduil was sitting at his desk, skimming through a thick pile of papers. He startled when Elrohir and Calhuan entered.

"Elrohir! What is going on?" He treated Calhuan to a look of tolerant distaste. He noted the blooming bruise on Elrohir's forhead.

The halfelf led Calhuan into the large room and had him seated in a chair. "Forgive me for the interruption, my lord, but I fear this is of great concern to you." Elrohir sighed, and suddenly dropped all pretenses. "You know who this is, as do I. He was attacked today in the catacombs. As the Prince's lover he has plenty of enemies, but I fear he may not be the only one in danger."

"Legolas?"

"I do not know where he is, but he should be safe for the time being."

Thranduil stood. "What do you mean by enemies, Elrohir?"

The halfelf shrugged. "Those who object to Legolas' choice in lovers, those who envy them, and those who have wanted to harm him before but have never had the leverage."

"You seem to have though this out."

Elrohir gave the king a despairing glance. "I have my reasons."

"I know you do, Elrohir. I may be high upon my throne, but I am not blind."

For some reason which he could not name, Elrohir had always housed the suspicion that Thranduil knew of his son's liaison. He smiled at Thranduil. "I know."

The King turned to Calhuan. "Did you recognize your attacker?"

The guard shook his head. "I did not see his face."

Thranduil shook his head. "There is nothing I can do for you, then. But keep to the light and stay with others whenever possible." He sighed. "Go now, and be careful. If anything seems amiss tell me immediately."

"I will, my lord." Calhuan bowed and left the room. Elrohir watched him leave before sinking into a plush chair.  
"He is nothing but trouble." Elrohir grabbed the decanter of wine from the table and filled two glasses. He handed one to the King and took a sip of his own.

The King paced slowly. "Do you think Legolas is in danger?"  
The halfelf snorted. "He is the Prince of Mirkwood -- he is always in danger."

Thranduil paused. "How can we find this attacker?"

Elrohir pulled his hand through his long, dark hair. "We cannot. There are just too many elves here, and we do not know who we can trust."

"Then I will have our most trusted soldiers guard Legolas until he is found out."

Elrohir shook his head gravely. "Do not trust them. Rich rewards may sway otherwise faithful minds."

"Are you suggesting that this assailant may have accomplices within our own ranks?"

The halfelf laughed. "Undoubtedly. They are not after a simple merchant's son, but the Prince of a realm. Someone saw Calhuan leave the main hall, and followed him."

"So, then, one of our own."

"Aye, I fear it is so."

"Guard him, Elrohir. Do not let him out of your sight. I will keep Calhuan as a personal guard, no one will question my authority and I can keep watch over him."

"Be careful, my lord. Bringing the victim and the king close enough for one blow to end both lives is asking for trouble."

"I know what I am doing, Elrohir."

"Forgive me, lord."

"Go find Legolas."

"I shall." Elrohir strode out, but gave Thranduil a short bow at the door. "Navarie."

"Navarie, ion." The king closed his eyes as he heard the door click shut. He hoped they would not be too late to stop the evil pieces from falling into place. He hung his head and was about to turn when the butt end of a sword slammed against the base of his skull, blackening his world.

Elrohir was walking purposefully through the halls, searching for Legolas, when his twin appeared. "Elladan!" The older brother approached.  
"What is wrong, Elrohir? I can see it in your face."

"Calhuan was attacked." He whispered in an undertone. "Nothing serious, but it does not bode well for Legolas. Have you seen him?"

Elladan nodded. "Aye, he is in the gardens." He grabbed his twin's arm and tugged him in that direction.

When they reached the gardens, Legolas was not hard to find. He was sitting, rather abandoned, on a stone bench. He was staring into oblivion, unaware of their approach.

"Legolas, mellon!" They both chimed. The prince jumped, but his face relaxed into a smile when he saw them.

"How are you both?" He stood up to greet them.

Elrohir grabbed his shoulder, none too gently, and forced him to sit between the Peredhil brothers. "Calhuan was attacked."

Legolas' face lost all of its color. "Is he--"

"Worry not, it was just a scratch. You must keep your guard though, for I would bet my life that it was not he that they want most."

The Prince growled in anger. "Do you know who it was?"

"No. But we will guard you."

"I do not need a guard! Eru . . . . I can take care of myself!"

"I do not care you think, Thranduilion. I'm not leaving."

Elladan shrugged. "You might as well accept it; we are not leaving."

Legolas heaved a frustrated sigh. "You told my father, I assume?" Elrohir nodded. Thranduil's son glanced at Elladan, who nodded and left.

"Wha--"

Legolas shook his head. "I needed to speak with you, Elrohir. Alone." The halfelf nodded. "I cannot ask you to do this." Elrohir opened his mouth to argue, but Legolas silenced him with a short wave of his hand. "I'm not finished. You are no longer my lover, Elrohir. Therefore, I cannot ask you to guard me when your life may be forfeit."

"I do not care. Lover or not, Legolas, I will stay with you. So will my brother."  
"What if my father learns of our relationship? However dead it may be. Have you considered that?"

"He knows." Elrohir grinned at Legolas' baffled expression. "He knows, and he is not angry."

Legolas shook his head violently. "I still cannot put you in this kind of danger. The attack may not know of you . . . if you guard me, then you would be added to their list."

"They already know."

"How?"

Elrohir shrugged. "They told Calhuan."

"I can't pull you through this. This is more than an orc raid we are dealing with, it's an assassin!"

"I want to."

"Eru, why?" Legolas was stopped from saying anything further when Elrohir's mouth captured his own in a gentle, but unrelenting, kiss. Legolas shivered when Elrohir's tongue caressed the seam of his lips. The halfelf's hand brushed against Legolas' jaw.

Elrohir pulled away. "That's why." He stood up and left the gardens, leaving Legolas alone. Neither of them noticed the shadowed figure that watched them from behind.


End file.
